More Artists, Fewer Intellectuals

Negatively reviewing a book about culture and the loss of Christian conviction, by theologian David Wells, James K.A. Smith says Wells is not bad on the diagnosis, but way off in his prescription. Wells’s problem, says Smith, is that “he prescribes an intellectual antidote for an imaginative disorder.” Excerpt:

Late in the book, he introduces a metaphor that actually touches on this point. As Wells puts it, believers “live in the midst of their culture,” but “they live by the beat of a different Drummer. They must hear the sounds of a different time, an eternal time, [and] listen for the music from a different place.” The challenge is one of attunement: “How are we going to hear this music? How are we going to hear the Drummer whose beat gets lost in all of the noise of our modern world?” Indeed, this is the psalmist’s question, too: “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” (137:4, NASB).

But the metaphor is better than Wells’s actual prescription. Instead of inviting us to absorb the rhythm of the Spirit, he prescribes a regimen of music theory, “a framework of ideas.” But if we’ve been following the wrong drummers, isn’t that because their beat got our toes tapping and captivated our imaginations?

The Spirit reforms our imaginations by a similar dynamic. By inviting us to inhabit the rhythms of embodied, intentional Christian worship, God not only informs our intellects but retrains our heart’s desires. Worship, then, is not just how we express what we already believe. It is also formative—an incubator for a biblical imagination.

Amid the whirlwind of modern culture, what we need most is not a better message, but a fresh encounter with the holy-lover of our souls, who will sweep us off our feet.

Smith has become a prominent theologian of culture, thinking and writing as a Calvinist. Matthew Lee Anderson’s review of his 2009 book Desiring The Kingdom explains the basic premise here. Excerpt:

Drawing upon Augustine and the phenomenological tradition, Smith argues that instead, humans should be viewed fundamentally, though not exclusively, as lovers, and—post regeneration—primarily as lovers of the Kingdom. Because of this, our nature is to push us outside of ourselves, and so is inherently teleological.

But Smith argues that the fundamentally non-cognitive, affective nature of humanity entails that the telos of love must be construed as a picture, otherwise it will not actually move us. What’s more, Smith contends that these basic desires are “inscribed” into our “dispositions and habits quite apart from our conscious reflection.” Not surprisingly, Smith argues that embodied practices are crucial to forming these pre-conscious habits. He writes:

We feel our way around our world more than we think our way through it. Our worldview is more a matter of the imagination than the intellect, and the imagination runs off the fuel of images that are channeled by the senses. So our affective, noncognitive disposition is an aspect of our animal, bodily nature. The result is a much more holistic (and less dualistic) picture of human persons as essentially embodied.

What has this to do with knowledge and education? Smith argues that the concept of worldview is insufficient (if taken as primary) precisely because it fails to account for this pre-cognitive, embodied nature of humanity. Worldview language is not enough because the Christian faith is fundamentally a set of worshipful practices that undergird our doctrinal commitments. Writes Smith:

I suggest that instead of thinking about worldview as distinctly Christian “knowledge,” we should talk about a Christian “social imaginary” that constitutes a distinctly Chrisitan understanding of the world that is implicit in the practices of Christian worship. Discipleship and formation are less about erecting an edifice of Christian knowledge than they are a matter of developing a Christian know-how that intuitively “understands” the world in the light of the fullness of the gospel. And insofar as an understanding is implicit in practice, the practices of Christian worship are crucial—the sine qua non—for developing a distinctly Christian understanding of the world.

Smith explicitly states that he isn’t trying to eradicate the cognitive aspect of Christianity, or the role of propositions. Rather, “the point is to situate the cognitive, propositional aspects of Christian faith: they emerge in and from practices.”

Interesting to think about the Protestant Smith’s point in conjunction with Dana Gioia’s recent First Things essay addressed to Catholics, about contemporary Catholicism and the arts. It begins like this:

For years I’ve pondered a cultural and social paradox that diminishes the vitality and diversity of the American arts. This cultural conundrum also reveals the intellectual retreat and creative inertia of American religious life. Stated simply, the paradox is that, although Roman Catholicism constitutes the largest religious and cultural group in the United States, Catholicism currently enjoys almost no positive presence in the American fine arts—not in literature, music, sculpture, or painting. This situation not only represents a demographic paradox. It also marks a major historical change—an impoverishment, indeed even a disfigurement—for Catholicism, which has for two millennia played a hugely formative and inspirational role in the arts.

Smith and Gioia are working toward the same goal, it seems to me. I feel what they’re getting at; I want to think about it more. My first reaction to Smith’s review is that when I was a non-believing college student (or a barely-believing one), I was not interested in hearing arguments for Christianity. It took a life-changing encounter with Christian art (well, architecture), and the experience of awe that overtook me in that experience, to open my mind enough even to consider the arguments. Now, nearly 30 years on, I am only just now beginning to understand in my bones the absolute necessity of the Divine Liturgy to ground me in my faith and worldview.

MORE FROM THIS AUTHOR

Hide 34 comments

34 Responses to More Artists, Fewer Intellectuals

Nothing is more practical than
finding God, than
falling in Love
in a quite absolute, final way.

What you are in love with,
what seizes your imagination,
will affect everything.

It will decide
why you get out of bed in the morning,
what you do with your evenings,
how you spend your weekends,
what you read,
whom you know,
what breaks your heart,
and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.

“We should talk about a Christian “social imaginary” that constitutes a distinctly Christian understanding of the world that is implicit in the practices of Christian worship. Discipleship and formation are less about erecting an edifice of Christian knowledge than they are a matter of developing a Christian know-how that intuitively “understands” the world in the light of the fullness of the gospel.”

If I weren’t an atheist, I’d be sorely tempted by the prospect of the “social imaginary” thus described. I’ll only add that, for all the allure of Christian art and architecture, the lives of the saints–that is, the lives of “ordinary” Christians–will always be the best
display of embodied Christianity. When I walked into the admittedly beautiful Trinity Church in Buffalo years ago, it wasn’t the stained-glass windows that impressed me or brought me back; it was the way that I, a scruffy stranger, was welcomed and invited back by the people there who–astonishingly–seemed to genuinely love me from the moment they set eyes on me.

In my experience, Smith is correct. It was observing how faith was woven into the life of people around me, and literally the beat of particularly poignant music (not that the words were irrelevant to giving it meaning) that brought me around.

I’m too Arminian to be a Calvinist, more attuned to Wycliffe than Luther, but there are a number of beats that are, I suspect, within the range of acceptability to God.

Thanks for calling out Smith’s work. He is one of the brightest young Reformed theologians out there, but is largely ignored within his own tradition.

I wrote a review of Wells’s last book on Amazon, and said pretty much what Smith is saying here. Wells does a great job of diagnosing some of the problems that come with the marketing-oriented turn in evangelicalism. But I don’t think Wells has a clue on what the prescription is.

Basically, Wells just wants to go back to the Carl Henry era of evangelicalism. And while that era has its merits in comparison to what evangelicalism has become, there’s no chance that we’re going back. That era was a product of the culture as much as it was a product of theological conviction. It was an effort to take the best of fundamentalism and the best of mainline polity and meld them together. But with the fall of the fall of both fundamentalism and mainline Christianity, such an approach can’t work today.

This drives home what I think is a fundamental point. At the risk of being a broken record… This is not an issue with today or kids these days or “modern culture” or the Internet. Rather, the issues we face are issues we have always faced. In the past, I think that we tried to wrestle with these things head on. We made art to help us deal with the human condition.

Seems to me like a lot of people, especially conservatives, are so preoccupied with blaming culture that, in a sense, they give humanity a pass. Instead of fighting, we pine for the good old days. Nostalgia rather than aggression. Which strikes me as odd. Yes, hot pants and Two Girls and a Cup might send kids down the wrong path. But as far as hurdles go, they seem pretty low. They are not Nazis. They are not Jim Crow. Nobody is being fed to lions. We have a political structure that, while imperfect, allows us to attempt to address grievances in a productive, non-violent way.

I don’t know. I think there is a case to be made that we don’t have great art because we have it too easy. And instead of taking advantage of that, we are wringing our hands and disengaging.

We are not Daniel in the lions’s den. We are Blutarsky. Without the humor.

[NFR: Well, my objections to your position are pretty well known, so no need to discuss them here. I do think, and always have thought, that you're onto something, though obviously I think the situation today is a lot more serious than you do. That said, it's funny how we trad conservatives are always oriented towards the past, but liberals are nostalgic for the future. This, by the way, is why MacIntyre is right about in America, there being no political tradition apart from liberalism. Even our conservatives are essentially liberal. It's in our cultural DNA. -- RD]

There’s a lot one could say about the loss of a distinctive Christian presence in the cultural mainstream – the dominance of post-modernist charlatans in the visual arts and the politicisation of the arts as part of the Sixties social revolution spring to mind – but I wonder to what extent the heightened pitch of the culture war over the last few decades has played a part in the erosion of Christians’ inclination to join the mainstream arts world. I don’t want to get in to whose fault the culture war is, or whether it’s bad, or any of those questions, but the fact is that it exists.

To write, say, a novel that was recognisably and seriously Christian in its themes but was also widely read and admired beyond Christian readers, a Christian writer would need to develop genuine imaginative sympathy with what we are now used to thinking of as “the other side” – a gay rights activist, perhaps, or an abortion doctor, or a liberal politician. Too much Christian fiction suffers from an earnest and well-meaning but ultimately suffocating and trite moralism. The almost unreadably awful “Left Behind” books spring to mind. I’m also reminded of a scene in a hugely popular work of Catholic fiction I read years ago in which someone arrives in hell to be told by Satan, or possibly one of his minions, that “Contraception has bought you to me!”

Very often good art thrives on doubt and ambiguity, the things unsaid and understood as much as the things stated and explained. Again, I wonder if the very understandable desire to hold the line in the culture war, and in the intra-church doctrinal battles, might be impairing conservative Christian intellectuals’ inclination or ability to explore those contested, liminal spaces at the borders of truth, reality and experience.

Just read the CT review. I’ve been working on addressing this JKS (the body, emotions) vs world view (mind) dichotomy. Initial read is that, following Heidegger, world view IS a picture, as well. Philosophy may be guilty for not taking into account the social, but this can all be distilled into thought or theory, as I understand it, which is philosophy’s strength.

I like JKS’ emphasis on liturgy, but I believe that, rather than counter the mind, thought has gone INTO the liturgy. These are still way too binary in their expression and straw man type critique. I know many pastors who, having READ Desiring the Kingdom, are preaching on the body – curious if you trace this to feminist studies’ emphasis on the body, as well; ie came out of a book, a mental act.

On the one hand, it seems to me that the arts in general, secular or Christian, have been in a bad way for over a century. With a few exceptions, I don’t find much art, “serious” music, or literature from WW I onward to be very appealing.

On the other hand, I wonder if it’s just the location of art that’s changed. In his book The Triumph of Vulgarity, which I can’t recommend too much, cultural historian Michael Pattison says that there’s actually a lot of good poetry out there–it’s just that it’s in the lyrics of rock and pop music, not in poetry journals.

Likewise, we discussed some time ago the rather profound subtext of Pixar’s Wal-E. Just as we don’t look for great Homeric epic poetry in the 19th Century, or works like The Divine Comedy in the 20th, perhaps future historians will see the great touchstones of our time in movies (including animation), pop music, and other genres that we don’t consider “serious”. Just a thought.

“This cultural conundrum also reveals the intellectual retreat and creative inertia of American religious life. Stated simply, the paradox is that, although Roman Catholicism constitutes the largest religious and cultural group in the United States, Catholicism currently enjoys almost no positive presence in the American fine arts—not in literature, music, sculpture, or painting. This situation not only represents a demographic paradox. It also marks a major historical change—an impoverishment, indeed even a disfigurement—for Catholicism, which has for two millennia played a hugely formative and inspirational role in the arts.”

Is Catholicism’s lack of positive presence in American fine arts by choice or has it been deliberately excluded by the arts establishment in our country? Do those foundations that give out art grants and museums prefer artists with a more profane emphasis?

This theologian wants us to regard Christianity as a set of affective, non-cognititional practices. Phrased that way, it sounds rather edgy, doesn’t it? But don’t be fooled: this is an old–and very tired–idea. It’s a reheated version of Christian liberalism, understood as the attempt to make Christianity more about lifestyle than intellectual assent. Been there, done that, and no amount of Charles Taylor can make the recipe turn out any differently.

Smith is still a Protestant, and thus does not place himself under apostolic authority. Cherry-picking the tradition to fit one’s aesthetic leanings will never solve “the problem,” since one is still in charge, and the authority of the tradition is still under one’s control.

If Smith is correct, how does he explain Catholic (or once-Catholic) Europe, not to mention the Orthodox world and all its machinations with the despotic Russian government. All the wonderful art, liturgy, music, and so forth didn’t change a damn thing, while, on the other hand, simple, low-brow preachers like Billy Graham have formed entire generations.

It’s the ideas that matter, and in this sense Wells is right. On the other hand, those ideas must be embodied in actual practices and traditions that people really believe. And in that sense, Smith is correct. For Wells, Christianity is a trip to the bookstore. For Smith, Christianity is a stroll through the museum (with Bach being played over the speakers). They’re both right and they’re both wrong. Like Paul said, the Body of Christ has many parts, and that includes both mystics, intellectuals, liturgists, and ordinary folks who just care about their souls being saved.

While some people are intellectually assenting, others are mainly seeking a
rhythm to tap along to.

For quite awhile now, the most insistent and pervasive cultural rhythm among us has been the rhythm of the
market place with its need for constant novelty, its focus
on “messaging” to “push” sales of products and ideas.

So not surprising when such market place rhythms become confounded and confused with genuine religious expression at times.

Genuine religious expression, whether in art or
worship, is an encounter with
immense awe; not the shallow & transient awe of the marketplace, but the deep awe at the core of the mystery of our existence.

How we encounter that awe, in all our contradictory human messiness, is a fit
subject for great literature.

But manipulating a message to try to convince people to agree with an author’s viewpoint is a tactic for marketplace-inspired “religious message literature”.

Most people (literally & figuratively) take their religious reading from whatever they find on the little bookshelf in the big
chain sundry store and tap to
whatever religious rhythm they hear most on the street.

That Smith has the native intelligence to not put himself under the pretentions of Apostolic Authority does speak much in his favor and he certainly is not engaging in the back-slapping twaddle of the Gioia article which did not so much talk of art as it did propaganda (I think he wants a Catholic Leni Reifensthal to emerge) which gives him a measure of credibility. (I actually made myself read the whole Gioia article and nearly ruptured something from laughing so hard. Ross Douthat at his looniest is not that bad.)

The simple fact is that overtly religious art is now pretty much unmitigated, didactic garbage and no one wants to read or see it except for those already of that mindset. And everyone not of that mindset laughs at it because propaganda has the serious weakness in that it is unutterably funny to those who are not already convinced before they see it. That is is produced at all is because there is a low-brow market that likes that stuff so money can be made.

There is little question that Wells newer works are not as strong as some of his earlier efforts. That said, I think taken as a whole the narrative he lays out tracks better with reality that what Smith appears to propose.

Frankly, if there is one thing every run of the mill evangelical Church agrees with, and is exhausting itself trying to live out, it is that, “Amid the whirlwind of modern culture, what we need most is not a better message, but a fresh encounter with the holy-lover of our souls, who will sweep us off our feet.” Indeed, the most serious false steps taken by what might be called centrist evangelicalism relate exactly to this desire to place doctrine in the background and an encounter with the holy-lover of our souls in the foreground – all in the absence of any meaningful ecclesiology so vital to providing balance.

While the Augustinian aspect of Smith’s critique resonates at one level, observation of actual evangelical churches leads me to believe the problem (and it is dire) is most certainly closer to Wells suggestion that, “The disappearance of theology from the life of the Church, and the orchestration of that disappearance by some of its leaders, is hard to miss today, but oddly enough, not easy to prove. It is hard to miss in the evangelical world–in the vacuous worship that is so prevalent, for example, in the shift form God to the self as the central focus of faith, in the psychologized preaching that follows this shift, in the erosion of its conviction, in its strident pragmatism, in its inability to think incisively about the culture, in its reveling in the irrational.”

Can your “social imaginary” be content with small pictures? Can it avoid the grandeur of a “worldview” that seeks power and influence? What do you do when the wealthy and culturally powerful no longer put money into your institutions and projects?

It’s easy to talk a great game about affection and vulnerability and the corrosive viciousness of global capitalism. Too many Christian intellectuals who note these things speak from within a privileged demographic in American culture. This alone makes their books hard to swallow. The hard work is embodying an alternative. I suppose I’d be more willing to listen were there more Christians abandoning the pursuit of power and influence for the Kingdom.

I do take heart with the slow spread of intentional Christian communities existing in places others refuse to acknowledge. In my experience, they tend toward disciplined inclusion, and not simply the political kind.

Annek asks: “Is Catholicism’s lack of positive presence in American fine arts by choice or has it been deliberately excluded by the arts establishment in our country? Do those foundations that give out art grants and museums prefer artists with a more profane emphasis?”

The body of Catholic art in Europe largely precedes our country’s existence and was in fact funded by the Church itself. And for centuries the Church in Europe was by far the largest, wealthiest and most influential institution, sometimes barely distinguishable from the State. That the same scope and influence is not reflected in the USA is not evidence of deliberate exclusion, but instead the reality that here, the Catholic Church has never been the largest, wealthiest and most influential institution.

Furthermore, our Puritan forbears disapproved of such ostentation, and, mysticism itself found little fertile soil in a largely Protestant nation. That the Church has not risen to the position in arts and culture in the USA that it occupied in Europe is primarily a matter of size and scope relative to the USA itself, and secondarily to a different religious culture entirely.

Thirdly, I suggest, it may be due to lack of initiative. Surely the Church needs not depend on external foundations to promote its art? And it should not. In a country and marketplace based on competition, even for grants from foundations, the Church cannot expect to be more than one of many applicants.

Remember, Smith grew up Pentecostal, the most non-cognitive branch of Evangelical Protestantism. The emphasis in that community is on experience, emotions, talking to God, God talking to you, speaking in unknown tongues, etc. On the other hand, Wells does theology like the Reformed scholastics, dry, unemotional, detached, etc. So, surprise, surprise, each author’s analysis is their autobiography projected on the world that they think ought to change. Rather than seeing the diversity of Christ’s body–each playing an important part in advancing the Kingdom–the authors see that the only way to “fix” Christianity is to make it into their image.

At the end of the day, these guys are no different than the Southern Baptist who sees the entirety of salvation in the altar call or the Riverside Church member who sees redemption in the “social gospel.” Protestantism tends to shape these sensibilities. Why? Because instead of seeing a both/and, they embrace an either/or. Smith and Wells are mirror-images of each other, still in rebellion against the authority of Mother Church, and each thinking that the solution to spiritual wholeness is that everyone–no matter their personal constitution and talents–think and act exactly like them. Because their world does not allow Franciscans and Jesuits, Dominicans and Augustinians, contemplatives and logicians, all in communion with each other expressing their diverse gifts in celebration of Christ and his Church, their project will fail.

To add to my third point above: The foundations may or may not prefer the profane to the divine, but it’s a sure bet that the former outnumbers the latter to a very high degree. We’re fairly swimming in the stuff right now.

And, although the Church itself might not apply to secular foundations to promote religious art, there is nothing to stop the Church or churches from forming their own foundation(s) to serve the same purpose.

Stated simply, the paradox is that, although Roman Catholicism constitutes the largest religious and cultural group in the United States, Catholicism currently enjoys almost no positive presence in the American fine arts—not in literature, music, sculpture, or painting. This situation not only represents a demographic paradox. It also marks a major historical change—an impoverishment, indeed even a disfigurement—for Catholicism, which has for two millennia played a hugely formative and inspirational role in the arts.

Well, if the Church wants contemporary Catholic art, it’s going to need to find a way to pay artists, composers, performers, etc. a good living or at least reasonable commissions. It should also be willing to pay good artists regardless of those artists’ own beliefs.

I can only speak to the music side of this — one of the problems is that most music which is recognizably “Catholic” is liturgical or “concert liturgical” (e.g. Bach’s B-Minor Mass, Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis, or Berlioz and Verdi’s Requiems). I have brought up Olivier Messiaen here many times before — I have been going through his complete works this month, so he’s been on my mind. Listen to this (it’s short):

It is the fourth “contemplation” from his massive suite “Twenty contemplations on the infant Jesus.” This one is the “Contemplation of the Virgin.” It’s as Catholic as any arts get, but is it recognizably so on its own? (say you didn’t know the title, composer, programme, etc.) If you know Messiaen, it’s clearly his voice — it’s present in his ear for the voicing of novel harmonies and the slow mixed-meter rhythms (and much else besides. But is that enough to count as “Catholic art”? I think so. Is it important enough to the Church to commission such works now and in the future?

Smith explicitly states that he isn’t trying to eradicate the cognitive aspect of Christianity, or the role of propositions. Rather, “the point is to situate the cognitive, propositional aspects of Christian faith: they emerge in and from practices.

Sam M: I think what you’re getting at is that the human condition has not changed even as our technology gives us new and different tools of perception and manipulation. And I’d agree that Americans tend to focus on technology rather than the human condition, which is why Rod’s observation that at some level we’re all liberals rings true.

And “art” here is not well defined, is it? Is it Gregorian Chant or Jay Z’s Holy Grail? Is it Chartres or the Disney Opera House? Is it Rublev or Banksy? Is it Dante or Trethewey?

(My subjective take is that “art” is what allows us to perceive those deep truths about the human condition, sometimes beautiful, sometimes not.)

The deeper issue being pointed out is the rationalistic favoring of the technical over the aesthetic, as if love springs from the mind first and then takes over the senses. Anyone who has fallen in love knows its precisely the other way around, and as a Christian we know that what God wants more than anything is for us to fall in love with Him, and to express that love to our neighbors.

It’s pretty pretentious to use the name of one of the great theologians of the Catholic Church as your posting name. It’s laughable that one would then go on to give such a faulty analysis as “Thomas Aquinas” did. Smith isn’t wanting the whole church to turn Pentecostal. He stresses the value of practices and liturgy in forming Christians’ minds and desires. He’s opposed to a rationalistic view that sees people solely as minds, rather than also as hearts. Faithful Catholics should nod their heads at that.
Furthermore, he’s not telling all Christians to live identical lives. He’s arguing that the church needs to be intentional about its practices. He has no problem with some people being “logicians” and others “contemplatives.”

Rod, I remember a post several months back when you mentioned Ken Myers saying, “cultures cultivate.” In other words, there is more that forms and shapes us than mere propositions and arguments. I have read both Jamie Smith and David Wells. Smith’s approach borrows much from Heidegger’s phenomenological notion of “attunement” found in Being & Time. Wells is concerned for the loss of transcendence in modernity. Could it be that your experience at Cathedral of Our Lady of Chartres really opened you up to the notion of otherness, holiness, transcendence that Wells wants to recover?

One other problem is this pitting “intellectual” against “artist.” I understand that this is mostly rhetorical, but it does manifest literally in our culture. Many — maybe most — of the great artists of the past were also “intellectuals” in the sense that they were very, very smart. Their works are not “merely” works of art — they are works of thought as well. I think I’ve said this before, but we aren’t exactly lacking in geniuses — it’s just that most of them know they can’t make a living in the arts; and many of those who try fail because of economic realities. I myself have seen musicians far more talented than me drop out of music altogether because they weren’t in a position to pay their bills. The problem for the Church vis a vis “the arts” is as much economic as it is cultural.

I hope I can take you more seriously than your avatar, but your comment makes me fear otherwise. I bristle at Christians who think (ostensibly) that Thomas Aquinas represents the only representative–and perhaps pinnacle–of “true” Christian philosophy. Only someone with that blinkered view could find Smith’s work philosophically vacuous. His writing is deeply and authentically informed by Heidegger, Husserl, Merleau-Ponty, Foucault, Bourdieu, and a host of other serious thinkers (whether you like them or not). Though his work is semi-popularized–though not “dumbed down”–he’s certainly more philosophically astute than the vast majority of other well-known theologians.

“He’s opposed to a rationalistic view that sees people solely as minds, rather than also as hearts.”

I’d have no problem with that, except that in the writings of Smith and many others, that word ‘solely’ in practice conveys the impression of ‘not at all’, when considered in the context of their work as a whole. As in, “Christianity is not solely a matter of assent to beliefs”=”Christianity is not at all, or at least not essentially, a matter of assent to beliefs.”

Another Matt raises many great points. Were the Catholic Church (or other churches for that matter) to spend as much time and money promoting artistic endeavor as they do trying to influence political culture, we might have more fascinating things to talk about. As he points out, the lack of theological reflection on Messiaen is shameful. Jeremy Begbie’s reflections on Messiaen’s oeuvre notwithstanding.

@JD, really? What does “assent to beliefs” even mean?

@Thomas Aquinas et al. Why all the agitation over cognition?

Aquinas argues that the only belief foundational to cognitive machination on the articles of faith is the complex act “to believe in God” (II-II.2.2), a belief that has no object outside the gift of the “light of faith” BY God. But God as an “object” cannot be determined by the intellect alone — God is not an object of knowledge that can be determined as true or false (II-II.2.1 — and all over the Summa, God is “named” via negativa, and “demonstrated” through the effects of creation). Natural reason can “know” God in a weak way because God created natural reason. There is no non-God natural reason in Aquinas, full stop. In the case of faith, the will (moved BY God) assents to the “object” of the intellect AS faith. Natural reason cannot grant faith.

ST, II-II.2.Reply to Objection 1: “If we understand those things alone to be in a man’s power, which we can do without the help of grace, then we are bound to do many things which we cannot do without the aid of healing grace, such as to love God and our neighbor, and likewise to believe the articles of faith. But with the help of grace we can do this….”

Cognition within faith is not the same thing as cognition without faith. Why? Because there is no assent of the will (dare we say, the heart?)